After Grigg
by Chelsie Dagger
Summary: Series 4 spoilers! Extended ending for Episode 2. All Chelsie, all the time!


Carson tipped his hat to Mrs. Crawley and turned away from the departing train. Fleetingly, his eyes brushed over Mrs. Hughes. Part of him wanted to ask her to walk back to Downton with him and part wished for a solitary walk to process what Grigg had told him. _I've been such a grouch, she probably wouldn't want…_

"Mr. Carson?" He turned slightly towards her quick steps. "Shall we walk back together?" Unable to speak, he accepted her offer with a slight gesture. Without thinking, he moved to walk between her and the edge of the platform. He was grateful for the company.

It was your typical late winter, early spring morning; crisp and clear. The frost etched the shadows of the trees onto the lane as they walked wordlessly home. The last hiss and howl of the train had long died away, finally carrying Charlie Grigg out of his life.

Still absorbed in his thoughts, Carson was absently thankful that Mrs. Hughes was not a chatterer. She knew how to respect silence. _A rare and admirable quality in a woman_, he thought. _Indeed, in anyone. _

Alice Neale had been a chatterer, an attention seeker, a guinea a minute. She needed the spotlight and the focus of every action to be on her. It had been a shock to everyone at first when overly serious Charlie Carson had even been able to capture her attention, let alone her heart. But he hadn't been able to hold it. Or perhaps, as he had now learned, he had simply given up too soon.

Carson thought of Grigg's words. _'You were the better man. She loved you.'_ He had achieved a hollow victory in a war in which every combatant had lost. Being acknowledged as the better man now was as useful to him as her cold and colorless picture. He still remembered when she had given it to him. She had laughed at the dour expression on her handsome face. "Charlie, they wouldn't let me smile. I shall have another portrait taken and demand that they let me smile. I look like a man."

"A beautiful man." He had assured her, offering a chaste kiss to her forehead.

"Careful, Charlie; with displays of affection like that, people will think we are brother and sister." She had pulled him down into a much more appropriate kiss for a couple planning their future life together. He had not resisted her; he never could. She was a force of nature that had swept him along in her wake.

He had introduced her formally to Grigg that very evening. Grigg was at his most charming, not that he was ever anything less with the ladies. It was the beginning of the end for them. It was months later when he had realized what was happening. By then, it was too late to change the course of events.

Charlie Carson was dull where Charlie Grigg was flashy; steady where Grigg was exciting and quiet where Grigg was verbose. Carson had been so hurt by her fickleness that he had conceded without a proper fight. He saw now that he'd never given her a chance to make a proper decision. Her vanity had needed him to compete for her affection. His pride would not let him.

What had he thrown away? He tried to picture _that_ life; the one with children and steady work on the stage. That life could have been his but at what price? He would have never come to Downton; would never have been so respected. He would never have known Her.

He pulled himself up from the depths of memory to listen to the soft steps beside him; always beside him. What would he have done these many years without her there? She had never made him tap dance for her attention or humiliate himself for her amusement. She was not shallow and insecure as Alice had been. Elsie Hughes was strong and independent. She didn't need an old fool like him, but still…she was here. Maybe there was hope.

_You gave up on Alice too soon. Don't make the same mistake twice, you fool._

CE-

The silence grew more pregnant with each step. _Will he say anything before we reach Downton?_ She wondered. She told herself it didn't matter, but she knew it did. She could not let him bury it all back down. He'd been more open with her in the past few days than ever before. Even in his angriest moments, he'd dropped the mask for her; proving that he trusted her. She didn't want things to go back to how they had been before.

She'd known about his stage life for years now. He'd told her during the war. She had been berating him for refusing to accept change. He'd tried to shock her with his past, or that was his pretense. She suspected later that on some level he had wanted her to know; had been searching for an opportunity to tell her for years. She thought perhaps he wanted to know that she still respected him despite his past. At least, she hoped that was what he wanted.

They were walking at a leisurely pace, but they were now less than ten minutes from Downton. If she was going to make him speak to her, now was the time.

"I know that wasn't easy for you, Mr. Carson, but I wanted to say how proud I am that you came to see Grigg off."

He pulled up short in mid stride and turned to look at her. These words from anyone else would have sounded sarcastic. _She does like to tease me._ His eyes searched her face for any hint of mockery or scorn. Finding none, he relaxed. He should have known she wouldn't tease him at a moment like this. "Thank you, Mrs. Hughes. That means a lot to me, but I have nothing of which to be proud. Pride of place belongs solely to you."

They continued forward at their easy pace. This silence was his to break, she knew. Over a minute later, he did so. "I owe you an apology, Mrs. Hughes."

It was her turn to stop in surprise. She raised her eyebrows at this odd confession. She had not expected an apology. She was satisfied to know that he was no longer angry with her, though she had not been too frightened. His anger with her was always short-lived.

"I should not have chastised you for acting as your conscious and generous nature dictated." She had a kinder disposition than he had; kinder than anyone he'd ever known. Sometimes he had a hard time understanding her. "I don't know how you do it, Mrs. Hughes. With one act of charity, you've managed to redeem a man the rest of the world had given up on, awaken a grieving mother to the fact that she still has much to give this world and save a grumpy, bitter man from wallowing in his past mistakes."

She blushed at the compliment. She was glad to help Mrs. Crawley and Mr. Grigg, but, if she was honest with herself, Mr. Carson was the only reason she'd dared interfere. She feared she might have overstepped when she compared his relationship with Grigg as an open wound, but Mr. Carson had needed that extra push, so she had risked his wrath, as Mrs. Crawley had put it.

"We all need a bit of saving sometimes, Mr. Carson."

"But not everyone has the advantage of knowing someone like you, Mrs. Hughes. I know I have been cross with you lately, though you were only attempting to help me. I am ashamed of my behavior. Please forgive me?"

"Of course, Mr. Carson." _As if I have a choice._

He smiled at her. There was still some sadness in that smile, she saw, but perhaps there was something softer about him now; something in his eyes. A spark of hope flared up in her and died just as quickly. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. _Silly woman, you're just imagining it._

They turned back to the large path and walked in further silence. As they approached the large main gates, Mr. Carson spoke again. "Shall we take the longer way back, Mrs. Hughes?" He indicated the small path that she knew meandered by the lake and the folly before returning to the house. "It is such a pleasant day and neither of us is expected back for some time."

"I should like that very much, Mr. Carson."

"Excellent." He stepped onto the smaller path. "It's a bit unsteady." He offered her his arm around which she shyly wrapped her own. He smiled as he lay his large gloved hand over hers. "Do you know, Mrs. Hughes, you would have made an excellent doctor."

"What makes you think so, Mr. Carson?"

"You seem to know a great deal about stitches and healing."

"You don't have to be a doctor to know about those. You just have to sustain a few injuries of your own." She had not meant to say this, but her head was swimming, being this close to him, holding his arm.

She never spoke of her own wounds. Did he dare ask her about them? He found that today, he did dare. "And have you? Been injured?"

Her mouth was dry as she contemplated answering him. _He is just trying to be polite. He doesn't really want to know_. But what if he did?

He took her silence as a refusal to answer. "I am sorry, Mrs. Hughes, I should not have been so impertinent."

_After I went through your waste paper basket and forced an unwanted part of your past upon you, you apologize to me for impertinence? Daft man._ "No, Mr. Carson, that is fine. That is... yes, Mr. Carson, I have."

"When I was a younger man, my friends called me Charlie. I'm not much of a Charlie anymore, but I would be pleased if you would call me Charles, Mrs. Hughes. Whenever you deem it appropriate."

"Only if you call me Elsie, Charles." _Preferably when it's inappropriate._ She smiled to herself.

"I would be honored, Elsie." The mood chilled slightly as the path dipped into the cool hollow where the lake lay. The air here was still heavy with pockets of cold mist. They both shivered and drew unconsciously closer. "I'd like for you to know about Grigg and me…and Alice."

He looked down at her. She did not meet his eyes, but nodded for him to continue.

"Truth be told, there isn't much to tell. I loved her and she threw me over for my best friend. I honestly do not know which betrayal hurt worse."

Elsie tightened her grip on his arm, seeking to comfort him without interrupting.

"Grigg claims he didn't mean to steal her away and I suppose I must believe him. He was a charming fellow back then and I was rather reserved, if you can believe it." She bit her lip to keep from smiling too broadly, and looked at him with a sidelong glance. She saw that he was smirking sadly. His self-deprecation was not bitter, only thoughtful.

"I thought I wore my heart on my sleeve. She seemed able to read my mind at times and I thought she knew how I felt without my having to say it every day. I was wrong. Apparently, my reticence led her to doubt. That doubt led her to Grigg, whose love was more boisterous, if less sincere, than mine. They didn't make a go of it, but they tried. Apparently, she died five years ago."

"I'm so sorry." And she truly was. He patted her hand on his arm appreciatively.

"He said he visited her in London before she died. She told him that she knew she'd made a mistake when she chose him. She told him I was the better man and that she realized that she did love me…or could have." He sighed as the path flattened out to follow the lake's shoreline. Why was he burdening her with this? He hadn't even processed it himself yet. "That's what he said, anyway. I don't know if I should believe him. He always was a liar," he said, dismissively.

She heard him trying to discount what Grigg had said; trying to withdraw again. She couldn't let him. "But what does your heart say, Charles? Do you think he was lying?"

She didn't think he was going to answer her. She'd gone too far now.

"No." He finally admitted quietly. "I don't think he was lying, but it doesn't make me feel any better."

"No, I don't expect it does." She commiserated.

Half to himself, he muttered, "I should have worked harder to make her see, but I didn't know that love was such hard work."

"Anything worth having usually is."

"But it doesn't have to be. Sometimes the best things in life are the things that come to us most naturally, if we just let them."

"That is a lovely thought."_ But I'm not sure that it is true._

At some point, through a common, unspoken agreement, they'd stopped walking and were standing quite still now, looking out over the lake, arm in arm. Too soon, the cold forced them to start moving again.

"Well, thank you for letting me unburden myself to you, Elsie. I'd like for you to feel that you can discuss your past injuries with me, as well. Whenever you like. If you don't mind sharing..."

"No, I don't mind. Of course, you know about Joe." Charles was a little shocked that she wanted to talk now. He wasn't really prepared to talk about Joe.

"But that broken heart was his." Charles reminded her.

"You can't break someone's heart without breaking your own a bit. But I'd have done him a greater disservice in accepting him."

"Which time?"

"Either." They were passing up towards the folly. The air warmed as the path climbed. "There was once a young footman that I fancied, but he chose his career over me; over everything. And I think he was still pining for someone."

"Then he wasn't worthy of you, Elsie." _No man ever could be. _"He must have been a very great fool to choose anything over you."

"I don't think he's a fool, just a man blinded by the past." Something about the way she shifted on his arm caused him to turn towards her. Her eyes locked onto his, willing him to understand her meaning. "Sometimes I still think there is hope."

His heart beat in his throat. What was she saying? Was _he_ the fool of a footman who had rejected the affections of this most perfect woman? He could not believe it. His mind began to reel.

"There is always hope, Elsie." He finally managed to say.

Charles was lightheaded now and needed to get off his feet. The sun had come out properly now, banishing all the mist and the frost. A sunny corner of the folly caught his eye. "Shall we sit for a bit?" He led the way over to the folly. He lay out his handkerchief for her on the sun warmed stone and sat beside her.

Her eyes never left his face. He felt them on him as he removed his gloves and hat. He placed the former in the latter and set them to the side. Finally, she looked away to set aside her handbag. The day had become quite warm, though the heat he was feeling was not entirely due to the weather.

She removed her own gloves and placed them in her handbag. She used the action to hide her smile at his unkempt hair emerging from under his immaculate bowler. Reflexively, he smoothed his hair quickly with his hand, but, as ever, at least one rebellious lock escaped the taming touch. There were more silver streaks in it now than even a year ago, but she suspected that his hair was just as curly and unruly as it must have been when he was a boy.

They sat in silence for a bit, looking back over the lake where some low mist still hung in the reeds under the willows.

When he spoke again, his jocular tone caused her to jump a bit.

"Do you know there used to be a housemaid at Downton named Elise?"

"Was there?" She replied, cautiously. What was he playing at?

"Yes, many years back now. She was a lovely lass with a fiery, independent spirit. Of course, I was only a footman at the time, so she wouldn't have given me the time of day." He looked at her hesitantly, to see if she was following. She returned his gaze unflinchingly, one corner of her mouth twitching in a small smile. "She was very ambitious and promising. I hope she found great success. She certainly deserved it."

"I am sure she has been very successful, Charles." Their eyes remained locked as she felt him take her rough hand in his incongruously soft hand.

He smiled hopefully now as he felt her grip tighten on his. "I hope more than anything that she has found some happiness."

"I think it is likely that she may have. I think it is very likely indeed." Her free hand came up to cup his chin as he leaned forward to kiss her. It was a light kiss on her forehead; demure and chaste.

Her hand remained on his face as he pulled back. She saw the fear in his eyes, the pain and the hope. It was enough for now; she would not push him too far, too fast. "Is this too soon for you, Charles? Because I can wait," she promised him. "I've been waiting."

"And you've waited long enough, my dearest friend…" He kissed her hand.

"My dearest love…" He kissed her cheek.

"My dearest Elsie." And finally, He _kissed_ Her.

The End-

**A/N Had to break my hiatus to extend this scene. Pure sap!**

**Of course, Fellowes still owns them both and will keep toying with us until 1929. Two steps forward, three steps back. Until then, Chelsie on!**


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